Irrational
by Gummysaur
Summary: There's a whole new meaning to the word "embarrassing", Sans thinks, when your brother and someone you barely know sees you break down. [very slight papyton, night terror sans]
1. Irrational

**My first Undertale fanfic! Inspired by thelostmoongazer's (tumblr) night terror sans AU. as the au's name suggests it's a little dark and im terrible at writing feelings so be prepared. i also have not finished the true pacifist ending, so if something conflicts with that, tell me! i'm already spoiled anyway lmao**

 **please let me know if anyone is out of character or there is something else wrong! constructive criticism is good \o/ (about the 'human' terms, such as hearts pounding and such even though they're skeletons...don't read too deeply into it. |D)**

* * *

This place was smooth. The air had a balanced temperature, humid, not hot, not cold. The floor beneath him didn't have a single bump. The darkness was completely uninterrupted. It would've been peaceful, calming, if his heart wasn't pounding so wildly like he had just ran for his life. It would've been nice if he wasn't trembling with fear, sweat dripping down his back.

"Ugh," he mumbled, pulling his hands away from his eye sockets. Ah. That was where the darkness had come from. He observed the area he was in; apparently, it was not a room at all, but rather a deep, yawning void. He spun in place, but it was as smooth as everything else. No movement, no sound.

 _Crunch._

Sans whirled around, heart speeding up, panting, for what seemed like no reason. _Calm down, Sans! Nothing's wrong! Why are you so—_

"Sans."

"Papyrus?" Sans took a cautious step forward. "Hey, bro, what're you doing out here?"

Papyrus glanced at the ground, his eyes shut. He swallowed. "F-Forgive me, brother, for what I'm about to do."

"P…Papyrus? What're you talking a— _augh—"_

Smoothly, cleanly, like everything else in this desolate hole, his brother ran forward and closed his bony hands around Sans' neck.

"I'm sorry, brother," Papyrus murmured, shaking his head. "It's for the best. There's nothing I can do."

"Papyrus!" Sans cried, lifting his hands to cover his neck, trying to pull Papyrus off of him. "Wh—why are you—bro—"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." his grip tightened and Sans choked, scrabbling at his brother's arms.

"Why? T-tell me, Pap…why are you—ugh—"

"Don't speak, Sans, you'll die faster." the grip tightened once again. "I want this to last as long as I can."

Somehow, Sans was still able to breathe, but right now it felt like it had been knocked from his chest. "Wh…what?"

Papyrus' apologetic frown suddenly twisted into a cruel smirk. "Oh, yes, brother, I'm so very sorry it has to end so fast. I'd rather see you suffer."

"Huh—"

" _Don't speak."_ Papyrus used his other hand to cover Sans' face. "Don't breathe. Scream for me, Sans."

Tears built up behind his eyes, his heart racing faster than ever. "Or cry. Either one is good. Gasp for air, Sans. It's only a fraction of the suffering you've put upon me and everyone else."

"No—No—"

"No? Don't argue, Sans. Think about it. You can't ever stop me from dying. You can't save anyone. You never help, it's all your fault. I die every time, because of you, _brother."_

Sans choked in terror more than the fact that the air from his body was being squeezed out, his whole body shaking. "Papyrus—I'm sorry—I'm sorry—"

"How's it feel to have your head torn off?" Papyrus murmured, sliding in closer. "I'm sorry, brother. It really is the only way."

He laughed, and it was out of place. He laughed and there was a final, crushing pain in his neck and the smooth, cool void darkened completely.

* * *

Sans awoke with a strangled scream, immediately closing his hands around his neck and gasping for air.

" _Papyrus!"_ he cried out, shaking uncontrollably, tears already starting to slip out.

 _No, no, don't scare him—it was just a nightmare—_

Sans raised his hands to his mouth, stifling any cries, the effort making his body vibrate like a broken wind-up toy. He just needs to wait out the night, thats all. He just needs to calm himself down, stay in bed, and wait until morning. It's going to be okay, It's going to be okay, he has himself under control—

His stomach gave a sudden leap as he realized he wasn't breathing, and his thoughts jumped into overdrive. _I'm going to die, it'll all be reset, it's all going to be reset, over and over and over_

"No," Sans gasped, stumbling up and opening his door. _Fuck,_ he didn't care, he needed Papyrus. He needed to know his brother was okay, it was just a dream. Stumbling towards his brother's room, he held his shirt tightly in his hands, using the wall to guide him. It felt like hours before he reached the door and he pushed it open.

"P-Papyrus?"

No response.

"Papyrus!"

The bed was empty. His brother was nowhere to be found.

 _There's a reason. There's a reason. He probably went for a walk. Don't panic. Don't panic._

He was panicking, he realized vaguely. His throat felt raw—must've screamed—and he didn't quite remember how he got to the bottom of the stairs, but here he was, shaking and holding his head in his hands, curled up against the wall and doing everything in his power to just _stay calm._

Time probably passed, not that Sans had a very clear idea of it nowadays, until he faintly heard a _click_ from nearby.

"So you see, I, the _Great Papyrus,_ am most certainly the most—what on earth?"

Sans made a keening noise, as if signaling his distress. He heard a click of footsteps but they sounded so far away…

"Sans? Sans, are you alright?! What happened?"

"Papyrus," Sans tried to say, but the words died in his throat, making a harsh breathy noise. Papyrus embraced him, rubbing his back and asking what was wrong. Sans gratefully clutched to his shirt, shuddering in his grip. He heard another concerned voice, somewhere behind Papyrus, but he was too exhausted and afraid to care.

"It's okay, I'm here, Sans," his brother murmured soothingly. "It's alright. Sshh…"

"I'm sorry," Sans cried. "I know I'm an awful brother, I-I'm sorry…"

"What gave you that idea?" Papyrus whispered fiercely. "You're the best brother ever, Sans!"

 _I'm not, I've watched you die over and over, I can never stop it…_

Shut up, shut up, he screamed in his head. "I'm sorry—It's—my fault—" he struggled to reign in _some_ control, but it all melted through his fingers like snow. The harder he tried to make his breaths deeper, the shakier they became.

"Sshh," Papyrus soothed. "It's okay. It's okay."

"…Paps, what on Earth happened?"

Sans froze, finally getting his bearings. The voice was soft, as if expecting Sans not to hear it. He tore himself away from Papyrus and looked up, the blood draining from his face as he saw who was behind his brother.

"M…Mettaton?" Sans whispered hoarsely. Oh, God, _anyone_ but him. To complete the disaster, he gave another ugly hiccup, tears only just beginning to slow down.

Mettaton averted his gaze and started to back out of the room.

"Don't go, Mettaton," Papyrus called. "Sans—"

"Oh," Sans mumbled, scrambling to his feet. "Oh, uh, shit."

"Wait, Sans—"

He didn't stick around. Trying to look as dignified as his tear-stained, trembling bones could manage, he made a run for his room.

" _Sans,_ wait!"

Yikes.

Yikes, yikes, _yikes._

Sans pressed his back to the wooden door, sliding down it as he pressed his hands to his eyes. "Yikes," he mumbled.

He curled up, not for the first time this night, and groaned into his hands. Well, that was it, he was never speaking to Mettaton again. He'd spent all that time building up his unaffected, cool persona, and here he was breaking down into tears right where everyone could see. He hardly even _knew_ Mettaton, he'd only met him a few times—just splendid. He wasn't even in the mood to think of some terrible pun to match his emotions.

 _Pathetic,_ a voice whispered to him. _Weak. Weak._

Sans, busily trying to ignore himself, suddenly caught a murmur from downstairs. He pressed one side of his skull to the floor.

"…was that?"

"I don't know, Mettaton…sometimes this happens, a-and he never tells me whats going on."

"You ought to ask him what's going on. He seemed…quite upset."

"I know." Sans cringed, trying not to cry in embarrassment. Of course they were talking about him. "I-I know, Mettaton, but every time I try to ask, he…he doesn't talk to me."

"Well, Paps, if you ask me, you should try and get him to talk. Family should talk things out, don't you think?"

"…You're right, Mettaton." Papyrus sighed. "I…should've been here…I feel like I've been a bad brother."

Sans flinched from the floor, missing the robot's response. Papyrus? A bad brother? Just because he went out to—wait.

Wait.

What on earth had Papyrus been doing out so late at night? And why had he brought _Mettaton_ home, of all people? Sans forced himself up, took a deep breath, and threw open the door before he could convince himself otherwise. He was at the bottom of the stairs before he could even consider if this was a great idea.

The two monsters turned immediately at the sound of Sans racing downstairs. He whirled around, stood as straight as he could, and faced them, opening his mouth.

…He really should have thought this through. If he just asked where Papyrus was, that would just make him feel more guilty—it would seem like Sans was accusing him of not being home, of not being there when Sans needed him. Of course, this realization just made it so Sans sat there like a fish, mouth open.

"…Ah, Sans?" Mettaton murmured, clearing his throat and glancing his way.

"Um," Sans said. Great. Good opening line, buddy. Always hit em with your strongest attack first. "Uh. I wanted to know, Papyrus, don't get the wrong idea, I was just…wondering…why you were out in the first place?"

Papyrus and Mettaton shared a glance. "…Ah, brother," he started, sounding confused. "I was…at a party."

"A party."

"Y-Yes, it was a birthday party."

Sans glanced towards Mettaton. Okay, now he felt like he ever-so-slightly had the upper hand. "Alright," Sans continued, fighting to sound steady and calm. "So, you're saying you went to a party in the middle of the night and brought Mettaton home?"

"You're not his parent, Sans," Mettaton objected. "You can't expect him to tell you every little detail of—"

"No, Sans is right," Papyrus mumbled. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, brother, especially when…when you needed me…"

Sans flushed, immediately losing what little control he had. "Uh—don't worry about that, bro, I'm just…uh…" If he could just quit stuttering. Geez, he was making a fool of himself. "Who's…birthday was it?"

"Oh, would you two stop dancing around the subject?" Mettaton put his hands on his hips. "Papyrus came out to have some fun with me and some others from Snowdin and the Hotlands. He wasn't obligated to stay at home to calm you down."

Sans flinched, gritting his teeth. "I'm not accusing him of anything! I just want to know where he was! When you wake up and your brother's gone, that's bad enough—"

"Sans, what happened?" Papyrus asked gently. "Were you that concerned?"

He turned to glare at the wall. "I—I just had some weird dream, it's nothing—"

"Another one?"

Mettaton raised an eyebrow, turning his gaze from Papyrus to Sans. He really, really regretted coming downstairs. Papyrus glanced down at his fingers and folded them together. "Sans, that wasn't nothing. You looked…terrified, and I hate seeing you like that."

"Papyrus, could we talk about this l—"

Papyrus shot a quick glance towards Mettaton, who gave him an imperceptible nod. Papyrus turned and took a deep breath. "No, Sans, we're going to talk about this now."

Sans couldn't help it. He groaned in irritation. "It's like…one in the morning or something…can't I just go back to sleep…?"

"Sans!" Papyrus shouted. "I, the Great Papyrus, will help you talk out your feelings now, or I am not a good brother!"

"B-bro, you're an awesome brother," Sans responded, giving a shaky smile. "Don't think any different, okay?"

"I'm sorry that there wasn't anything I could do, before—"

Sans choked back a gasp, a shudder running through his body. _There's nothing I can do, brother._ Papyrus' cold gaze glaring into Sans' eye sockets as he strangled him, a smirk twisting his features. Sans fought to keep his breathing under control, but he must've paled.

"Sans?" Papyrus asked in concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Never been better, bro," Sans said, grinning and shrugging. Okay, this was more his field. He knew how to act cool and chipper when in reality he wanted to curl up and scream for a year or two. He shoved his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. "But, uh, can we please talk about this in the morning—"

"Sans, stop avoiding me! I just want to help you feel better!"

Sans gritted his teeth and glared at his feet. Couldn't they sense his embarrassment at all? Couldn't they feel the tension crackling around them? It'd just be easier to shove it all under the rug, bottle it all up. At least Sans _knows_ how to do that.

"…How about you two talk upstairs," Mettaton broke in gently. "I could make you two some tea. It's better to talk things out, you know!" he gave a smile he probably reserved only for the cameras. "That's what I do everyday! Talk to the people viewing. Always act as though you're performing, sweetie." he then turned around and went straight for the kitchen.

"…I didn't really ask," Sans mumbled. Papyrus shrugged and started towards the stairs.

"I'll be in your room, Sans. I hope you'll come with me."

Sans watched as the taller skeleton slowly trod up the stairs. He then turned his gaze back to the floor and sighed.

"Sans," Mettaton called softly from the kitchen.

"Um, yeah?" Sans replied, wincing in preparation for some touchy-feely attempt at inspiration.

"What kind of tea do you like?"

"Wh-what?"

"Hm, I suppose it doesn't matter. You wouldn't buy something you don't like, right? Anyway…"

"Uh, Mettaton, I don't think we actually have any tea…"

"That isn't stopping me! Now go and talk with your brother, Sans. He's a very good person. Don't leave him hanging." The wink was practically audible.

"Yeah, I know," Sans sighed, turning toward his room. "Mettaton?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

He cringed. "Um, can I ask that you pretend this never happened?"

"Hm, depending on how things go, I can't promise that!"

Sans rolled his eyes and started up the steps. Whatever. Perhaps it was for the best that they both couldn't keep a promise.

"Hey bro."

Papyrus looked up from the spot at the floor he'd been glaring intensely at. "Sans!"

Sans shrugged and leaned up against the wall opposite from Papyrus. His brother was sitting on his bed, fumbling with the sheets. There was a loud, crackling silence.

"…Sans," Papyrus repeated softly. "You know, I would like for you to tell me if something is wrong."

"I know, buddy." Sans smiled. "But I really am fine."

"Just a few minutes ago you weren't," Papyrus objected. "I—I was very worried! Even someone as great as me gets worried!"

Sans shrugged. His heart was pounding, his hands felt cold, but that was okay. He was hiding it perfectly well. "You don't have to, Pap, I'm—"

"Tell me what you dreamed about," his brother pleaded. "Don't keep me in the dark."

 _Dark, cold—_

Sans started shaking slightly harder, the smile somewhat harder to keep up.

"It was nothing," he tried to say, but his voice gave out before he even started, his throat producing a hoarse mumble that only vaguely sounded like what he intended.

Papyrus waited patiently, a small, sad frown on his face. _You caused that. He's in pain because of you. You hurt him._

An image from his dream slipped through his consciousness, gripping his mind. Papyrus running forward, choking his own brother, apologizing emptily with that smile that didn't belong on his face—he'd seen that smile somewhere, but _where?_ Childish, but so icy?

"Sans?"

His breathing was out of control again. Everything was losing control, when he'd fought so hard to keep it in place. "I-it was n-nothing, I-I…"

 _Don't argue, Sans. You can never do anything to stop it._

"I-I just—I don't want you to—get the wrong idea—it won't make _sense—"_

" _Sans,_ it's okay. You don't have to be afraid. It's just a dream."

 _Just a dream. Just a dream. It's going to be reset._

 _Tell him. Tell him._

 _Hurt him one more time, Sans._

"I d-dreamed that you tried to kill me," Sans finally cried out, his whole body trembling with effort.

Papyrus' eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment he looked hurt.

 _Good job._

"I'm sorry," Sans whispered, unable to raise his voice any higher. "I don't know why—don't—don't be upset, I didn't _mean_ to dream t-that, I'm not scared of you, you're my _brother—"_

"I know, Sans!" Papyrus leapt forward and went to the smaller skeleton, lifting him and hugging him tightly. Sans flinched, _flinched,_ away from his sibling, the only person he held dear. Why?

"I'm sorry," Sans gasped, pressing his face into Papyrus' shoulder.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. Dreams don't make sense, Sans! They're irrational. It's okay to not understand!"

"I'm sorry," Sans repeated. It's all he could really say. Tears slipped out his eyes and he breathed in shakily through the soft red scarf.

"You know, I think you're afraid of something else. Something that took my form. Do you have any clue what that is?"

 _It's all going to end._

Sans felt the hands around his neck, everything ending with a horrible feeling of failure, of panic. Reset. Reset.

Papyrus waited for a response, but Sans still was shivering and sobbing into his brother's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Sans. You don't have to worry with me around! I will stay by you tonight. You can sleep and we can talk in the morning."

Sans couldn't do more than nod gratefully, some of his terror being pushed down. Papyrus hummed and turned around, placing him on the bed.

"Don't worry," he repeated, smiling a little, now. "I will stay here and make sure you don't get attacked!"

"T-Thanks, bro," Sans whispered. He didn't realize until his eyes were closed how _tired_ he was. Whatever. He was always tired.

* * *

Sans awoke with a sharp gasp, eyes shooting open. His heart pounded as his pupils adjusted to the dark.

Oh, it was _that_ one again. The one he always woke up from in a nervous sweat, but with no memory of the dream itself. Sometimes if he was lucky, he caught a phrase or two, but they never made any sense.

Sans started trembling, then heard a small noise behind him. His heart shot up into his throat as he whirled around.

Papyrus was squeezed up against the wall in an uncomfortable-looking position, mouth slightly open and eyelids feather-light against each other. He was making light sleep-noises. Not snoring, exactly, but soft, muffled murmurs.

Almost immediately, the pounding in his chest slowed down, his hands stilled, and he could breathe a little easier. He glanced around for a clock—apparently, he'd only been asleep for a couple hours. He turned around, wondering if he should try to sleep more. Two nightmares in one night was usually the point where he gave up, but he was already calming down, his brother's presence beside him like a balm on his nerves.

The moonlight from his window caught on something. Squinting at his dresser, he made out two cups and a note. Sans slowly got up, so as not to disturb Papyrus, and silently padded towards the items. He picked up the note first, holding it up to the window.

 _You two are just too cute._

 _Papyrus—call me!_

— _Mettaton_

Sans glanced at his sleeping brother's form and snorted. He was _really_ going to have to ask about that 'party' he went to. He then glanced at the cups—they were full of tea that contained a sparkly substance that looked suspiciously like glitter glue. Sans took a hesitant sip. It was still warm—magic, probably—and tasted warm. Homey. Sans smiled and placed the cup back down. Another thing to ask about—where had Mettaton gotten tea like this? Oh, well. Some things were better left unanswered.

Sans shook his head and quietly hopped back in bed. He'd have to speak to Papyrus tomorrow, but for now he could rest.

Maybe, this one night, he could have a few hours of peace to himself. And that was all he needed.


	2. Illogical

**looks like it's a twoshot now? whups**

* * *

Sans blearily flicked open his eyes. He was awake for the third time this day, but this time chilled sunlight was streaming in through his window. Groggily rubbing his face, he turned and noticed that Papyrus wasn't there.

"Sans?"

Sans started, whipping his head back to face his door where the voice had come from. Papyrus was leaning against it, his face suggesting he'd been there for a while. Sans offered a confused smile.

"Uh, hey bro, how long have you been up?"

Papyrus shrugged.

"Oh. Um, you could've…woken me…"

"You needed sleep. I know you got up in the middle of the night," he pointed to the two cups of tea, one empty and the other barely drained. "so I decided I'd wait for you to wake up."

"Oh," he repeated, stunned. "Thanks."

"Can we talk now, Sans?"

Sans rubbed his eyes again. "It's too early for this. Let's eat first." he lifted his head and met Papyrus' gaze. "I won't run or anything."

His brother hesitated, then turned and opened the door. "We'll have breakfast spaghetti."

The phrase echoed in his head, like déjà vu. He swallowed as his feet forced themselves up and out the door. Had he been through this before? How many times had he heard those words? What was the point of talking if it'd just be—

He forced himself to think about something else as he followed his brother down the stairs. Glancing behind him, as if checking to see Sans made it downstairs in one piece, Papyrus headed for the kitchen.

Sans watched the red cape flutter around as its owner shuffled around for the spaghetti. That cherry scarf. Sans idly wondered how many times he'd held it in his hands, body trembling with dust swirling up from the snowy earth, still so afraid yet suddenly eager for the next reset—

Think about something else.

"So, bro, did you sleep well?"

Papyrus paused in his search. "Yes, brother. And you?"

He was acting so _formal,_ so cautious. Sans couldn't help but feel irritated. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

"Good."

There was an awkward silence. Sans couldn't help but think back to last night, his insides flinching at the idea of someone out there other than Papyrus seeing him like that.

"You know," Papyrus said, finally breaking the silence, "I went outside not because of that party last night."

"Huh?" Sans hadn't expected this to be the first conversation topic. "Oh, right. The party."

"I went outside because I kept thinking that my puzzles froze over, because I had been cooking with Undyne, and I didn't have a chance to check up on them, and it'd be very inconvenient if the buttons broke."

"Uh-huh."

"So I go out and I check, and luckily, the puzzles were all fine. Then I see a monster I had never seen before, wearing a big jacket. And it said that there was a party going on in Waterfall, that the star Mettaton had visited all the way from the Hotlands, and I love Mettaton's quiz show, so I thought it was an excellent opportunity!"

"Seems kind of shady."

"Yes, well, I got there, and it was shady indeed. It was very dark!"

… _Was that a pun?_ Papyrus only made puns when he was nervous (which was pretty rare).

"But incredible, as well. Lots of echo flowers around…lots of those glittery yellow diamond things…it was very beautiful. And Mettaton was there! And he talked to me quite a bit, and said he'd like to see what my house was like, and then I remembered how long I'd been gone…" his voice drifted off. "And…well…I was very happy to oblige, because I had to go home, and I might as well take him with me. Mettaton is very nice and funny. He kept complimenting me? It was…confusing, but nice!"

Sans tried not to growl. Was that guy _flirting_ with his brother?

"And…" Papyrus set the plates of spaghetti on the table. "I got home."

"Yeah." Sans poked the pasta with his fork. They both knew what happened after that. Papyrus rubbed the back of his head.

"And that is the tale of why I was out last night. Now, I've explained myself. Can I ask you do the same?"

Sans shoved a forkful of his breakfast in his mouth in an attempt to stall. He chewed slowly, cringing through the taste. Should he? Sans closed his eyes and saw, rushing through his head like streams of icy-clear water, timelines where he'd told his brother, where they shared pain. He had no memory of them, but he knew he'd done it. Timelines where they both recalled things. Timelines where Papyrus got a little quieter, a little more thoughtful. Timelines where Papyrus woke up from nightmares and took longer to calm down faced with the knowledge that they weren't just dreams.

His hand clenched around his fork. He couldn't do it. He imagined the words coming forth and the rivers built beneath his ribs suddenly roared forth, foaming at the edges with desire to just _confess,_ tell someone, not be so bitterly alone in this.

He steeled himself. No, he had to do it alone. It was far better that way. He took the brunt of reality, while Papyrus could be happy. That was the best way to do things, he had it all documented, it was statistics.

"Sans? Is it okay if I just ask things?"

Sans nodded cautiously. Papyrus fiddled with his gloves, looking every bit the awkward teen who didn't know how to say what he needed to.

"Why…why do you call out for me so much in your dreams?"

Sans choked on a piece of pasta. "W-wait, I talk during them?"

"Sometimes," his brother murmured. "Sometimes you apologize for things, you usually end up screaming my name, but for the most part I can't make out what you're saying."

"…Oh." he suddenly felt vulnerable, like he'd been exposed. He couldn't put up appearances and facades in his sleep. The thought that he could say something and have no choice against it…Sans stabbed his food and circled the fork around absently.

"What happens in your dreams? Are you always attacked by me?"

"No, no, that's the first time that's…" he fumbled around for words—he really did not want to talk right now— "that's…happened."

"So what do you usually dream about, then?"

"Nothing!" Sans suddenly snapped, his body heating up. He tried to apologize for the outburst but his tongue wouldn't work.

Papyrus glanced at the floor with dejection, his shoulders sagging. "It's…it's alright, Sans. You don't have to talk if…if…"

Sans caught the small waver in his voice, the sudden turn of his head. A pit opened up in his stomach as he realized he did what he was trying so hard to avoid.

Papyrus started off towards the door. "I'll be at my post."

Sans reached out for him. "W-wait, bro—"

"No. If you can't trust me enough with it, then—then so be it! I'll just…attend to my puzzles." Sans could hear the strain increasing and it hurt more than a cut across his ribs— _god how could he picture that pain so clearly?—_ as he listened to the all-too-familiar sound of tears on the verge of being released.

"It's not like that—"

The door shut.

Sans hopped from his chair, promptly overcome with the desire to chase after him. Busily ignoring the pain in his whole body that wanted him to stay rooted in the kitchen, he scrambled for the doorknob, his shaking fingers opening the door and shooting out towards the snow. Papyrus was swiftly walking towards the exit of Snowdin Town, one arm raised over his face.

 _You hurt him again._

He did, hadn't he? It wasn't just a product of his imagination this time.

 _Go after him anyway._

No, he'd just mess up again, prove once more at what a failure of a brother he was. Why even try?

 _Go after him! Go after him!_

No, no, no—

 _Calm DOWN!_

Sans gave a cry of frustration as he threw himself onto the snow and pattered unsteadily after the fading sight of a fluttery red scarf.

Somehow, he could imagine a slice of a knife letting that cape fall onto a sticky mixture of snow and dust…

His breath stuck in his throat and his hands were shaking but they wouldn't stop. He wanted to curl up under a tree so badly, hold his head and wait for it to pass and possibly wait for the inevitable reset.

 _Keep. Going._

He forced his legs to keep moving forward, but Papyrus was just so much _faster_ than him—

"Papyrus?" he called. "Pap, where'd you go?"

For a second, his vision blurred and he found himself at his sentry station.

Shit, he'd accidentally teleported in his panic. Then again, he should've done that in the first place. The area by the ruins was where Papyrus said he'd go, right? He looked around wildly just in time for his brother to crash into the clearing.

"Bro!" Sans gasped in relief. "There you…are…"

Papyrus froze, tears still falling down his cheeks. They stared at each other before Papyrus turned around.

"Pap—" Sans whispered, his stomach twisting again. _I hurt him, I hurt him, I hurt him,_ he tried to force the thoughts away as he reached for his brother's hand. Papyrus, without warning, violently pulled away. Sans reeled backwards in surprise.

"You can't share anything with me, can you?!" Papyrus cried. "Is it because you think I am too weak? That I can't handle it? Because I'm not a child anymore, Sans! You can't always shield me from things! Why—why can't you—" he rubbed his face, clearly trying to pull himself away from the edge, to stop talking, but words kept slipping through his teeth. "why can't you just believe in me?"

Sans swallowed, each word like a rock thrown against him. Once again he forced down the stream of worry and pain that wanted to burst free in any form possible—another embarrassing meltdown, probably.

"Papyrus…"

He took a deep breath and reached out for his brother's hand again. "I'm sorry. I…it's time I told you. Or at least showed you."

With a jolt of buzzing magic and a dizzying journey through space, they were back at home in Snowdin.

"A shortcut," Sans said absently by way of explanation, then started up the stairs.

"Sans—"

"Come on." he suddenly felt cold, empty. This had happened in several timelines anyway.

His room was slightly warmer, with the sun angling in through the window, but it still held a stagnant atmosphere that made the room feel tense. He stepped for the drawer that was home to his lamp without a bulb and gently slid open the rickety door. There were a few blankets and such hiding the treasure—a small, red-tinted book with a dark aura.

"Why…why's it glowing? Or, ah, not glowing?" Papyrus asked curiously, observing the journal.

"Negative photon readings," Sans said, his words slightly more clipped than intended. "Take a look inside."

Papyrus turned the pages, eyes wide with confusion. He stopped at a random page and began to read out loud.

" _Dear Journal,_

 _I don't know what the human is going for this time. If my last entry is right, we really made it out. We got to the surface. But the kid brought it all back to zero."_

Papyrus looked up in shock. "Sans…what is this?"

"Keep reading."

Papyrus frowned and held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned his eyes back down to the faded pages.

" _This time they're killing everyone. It's going to fight Papyrus soon and I'm a little scared."_

Papyrus gave a significant pause, eyes scrolling the rest of the entry. He looked up, about to ask something, before he caught Sans' expression. He hastily continued reading.

" _They did it they really did it listen if you're reading this don't trust that piece of—it'll kill everyone."_

Sans couldn't help but notice how he skipped over the curse. So pure. Could he really tell him? Too late to go back now.

" _They're killing everyone. They're walking around the streets, searching every corner for leftover monsters to kill. There's so much dust. I don't know why they're doing this. They never killed anything in the other entries."_

" _They killed Undyne. They killed Mettaton. I think they're going to kill me next."_

Papyrus drew his finger down the page. "T-then there's…there's," he took a second to count, "twelve tally marks."

"Yep." He didn't add that the tally marks were the amount of times he'd killed the human, or that he'd actually succeeded far more times than twelve and he'd just gotten sick of keeping track. Sans couldn't help but wish Papyrus had turned to a different page. A happier one, maybe, something to ease him into reality. Or unreality. Whichever one.

"Sans, can you please explain?"

Sans nodded softly. "There's so many timelines, Pap. Timelines that end and start at the drop of a hat. Some people get to control them, and it always ends up in the wrong hands. People who can send us all back to the start. Time loops. Every day I wake up and have to reread this entire journal and if I don't remember anything I know it's started all over again." Sans felt a rage, a rage he didn't know was there suddenly spring forth. "See now?! See why I can't do _anything?_ There's no point!Every day I have to wake up faced with the knowledge that it's all going to be reset and that nothing! _matters!"_

With that last, punctuated word, he finally felt something inside him snap and the rivers flow forth as he collapsed and tears started to flow.

"Sans!"

"S-see? I couldn't tell you that," he cried, struggling to reign himself in. "I couldn't tell anyone that. Nobody will remember. It's just easier this way."

As soon as Sans trailed off and held his sleeve to his face, crying silently, Papyrus' expression hardened.

"Then write it," he whispered. "In this…time diary…write a note. Tell me every timeline. Tell me every time this happens."

"I c-can't," Sans spluttered shakily. "How can I explain this to you over and over?"

"It's what I want, brother," Papyrus murmured. He was taking this a lot better than Sans expected. "Don't look so surprised. I…I always knew there was something going on behind the scenes."

"Huh?"

"Dreams…that didn't seem entirely like dreams. Sometimes I get flashes of the surface. I know that the sky is blue up there and there is a sun, but there's no way I should know that. I…I sometimes, rarely, dream about a human pulling my head away."

Sans made a choked sort of noise and flinched, a shuddering of his whole body. "I'm sorry, Pap, I'm so sorry…"

Papyrus pitched forward and finally encased his brother in a hug. "You don't have to be sorry. We can work together, now."

"T-the human is going to come any day now," a gulp of air broke the sentence, "T-they reset, I think."

"Well, we can ask them to stop, right?"

"We can't. Nothing will get them to quit it."

"How do you know that for sure? I'm sure with a little bit of kindness and friends, the human will rethink all this."

Sans barked out a laugh, squeezing his brother's arms. "Y-You sure that'll work, bro?"

"Even if it doesn't, we can keep coming back and keep trying. Don't you see? These resets give us all the tries we need."

Oh, Pap. Only he could put a positive spin on an endless time loop completely controlled at the whims of a murderous child.

"They killed everyone once," Sans breathed. "Then they came back and only killed you, and I think it was just so they could see my reaction. Then they came back and didn't touch any citizens, but…they killed you again. And Undyne. And Mettaton. All the biggest challenges in their way…"

Papyrus swallowed. "…Brother, how is this all documented? Wouldn't it be reset?"

"That journal is impervious to time. Reset all you want and it'll keep everything inside it. There are some photos in between the pages. Proof we really made it to the surface. One…one has your dust."

Papyrus hugged Sans harder as his voice choked. "Oh god I'm sorry I didn't mean to l-let you die so many times, I…I could've done something but I was just so stupid, there had to be something I could—"

"Sshh," the larger skeleton breathed softly. "It's okay. It's a new timeline now."

They sat there in that curled-up position for who knows how long.

"It's okay, Sans. I promise I'll always be here, as long as you trust me every single time this happens."

Taking a deep breath, Sans nodded and reached for his book.

"Wanna help me write this one, Paps?"

Papyrus offered a huge smile and picked up a pencil from nearby. "Of course, brother."

* * *

Sans woke up in his bed.

He sat up blearily, looking outside. A new day. He glanced towards his drawer and felt fuzzy, like someone had stuffed his head with cotton.

Had there been a reset?

Sans hopped up, hands already shaking with trepidation as he headed towards the dresser. He slipped open the door, dug out the blankets, and pulled out his book, opening the first page.

He didn't recognize any of the words.

Sucking in air through his teeth, he rubbed his face with his free hand. God, how much more of this could he take? Ambling back to his bed, he curled up on the mattress and began to read the whole thing, beginning to end. He remembered the things with the flower, apparently, so it had been the human who had reset this time. He shuddered when he read that he'd made it to the surface and felt his stomach lurch as he read the 'merciless' chapter. It took several minutes but he finally reached the end of the book.

With a frown, he noticed an extra entry, but it wasn't in his handwriting. This handwriting was far larger, more spaced out. With a jolt he realized that it was his brother's.

 _Dear Future/Past/Other Sans,_

 _If you are reading this, I suppose the human has pulled another 'reset'? If so, don't be upset. It'll be alright. I will be there when you wake up. Oh, I'm Papyrus, by the way! From the past. I mean another timeline. Sans is helping me write this. I know you want to protect me, because I'm your younger brother and all, but I have a request to make of you; please tell me, or him, or us, whichever. I want you to tell Other Papyrus about timelines and resets so I/he/we can help you. You don't have to shield me or anything. This isn't a burden you have to carry on your own. I believe in you. I believe that you can solve this, and I believe that I/he/we can help!_

 _Signed,_

 _The Great Papyrus_

 _P.S: if this ends up being a bad timeline, please_

The writing stopped there.

Sans felt heat rise up into his face, bunching up around in his eyes. He rubbed his face—it was too early in the morning for tears. He was about to shut the book and face the day when something fell out from the pages. Bending down to pick it up, he realized it was a note—signed by Mettaton, calling him and Papyrus "cute"? Sans frowned at it. Why had his past…future…other self saved that? It smelled vaguely of tea and glitter. Huh. Well, a signature from Mettaton himself could probably be worth some gold if he and his bro needed it.

For now, though…

Sans pocketed the book and walked out the door.

"Pap?"

"Brother? You're awake without me coming to get you? Well, that's good! I've already prepared the breakfast spaghetti!"

Sans cracked a smile, strolling down the stairs. "Heh, yeah…hey, Pap?"

"Yes, brother?"

"I…"

Sans gripped the mahogany journal in his pocket a little tighter, taking a deep breath.

"I have something important to tell you."


End file.
